Tuskegee Airman celebrates 100th birthday

By PHILIP HANDLEMAN

One of the last surviving Tuskegee Airmen recently celebrated his centenary in style, surrounded by admirers at an airport where, long after his historic wartime exploits, he passed along well-worn flying tips and an abiding passion for flight to many aspiring aviators.

Almost from the moment Harry T. Stewart, Jr. was born on July 4, 1924, he pointed to planes crisscrossing the sky above, causing his parents to remark that he was meant to fly.

Growing up in the New York City borough of Queens during the Golden Age of Flight, Harry’s interest in aviation took root with after-school walks to North Beach Municipal Airport. At the austere airfield not far from his home, Harry feasted his eyes on planes taking off and landing, which fueled the desire to earn his wings.

After a multi-million-dollar upgrade to North Beach Municipal, the facility was rechristened New York Municipal Airport-LaGuardia Field (KLGA). Harry was among the thousands of spectators who turned out for the dedication ceremony on Oct. 15, 1939. Snapshots that day captured the 15-year-old posing in front of an iconic Douglas DC-3 airliner belonging to Transcontinental & Western Air known as “The Lindbergh Line.”

Soon afterwards, when a counselor at school asked Harry what he wanted to be, he unhesitatingly replied: Airline pilot. The answer caused the counselor to tear up for she knew airline flying jobs were closed to Blacks.

As it turned out, the looming war would provide Harry the chance to fly, albeit for the military rather than the airlines. Under pressure from civil rights organizations and with war looming, the Army Air Corps set up a segregated flight training program for young African American men at Tuskegee, Alabama.

In June 1944, Harry’s graduation culminated with the Army’s silver wings being pinned to his uniform. Assigned to the 332nd Fighter Group, the famed Red Tails, at Ramitelli Air Base in Italy, Harry flew P-51 Mustangs on 43 combat missions.

His most memorable occurred on April 1, 1945, near Wels, Austria. He and a handful of fellow Tuskegee Airmen were jumped by a larger gaggle of enemy aircraft. When the smoke cleared, Harry had downed three of the Luftwaffe’s most advanced piston fighters, the Focke-Wulf Fw 190D-9s. For his air combat prowess, he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.

Proud to be serving his country and thrilled to be flying fighters, Harry chose to make the Air Force a career.

In May 1949, just before the Air Force desegregated, he and a couple other 332nd pilots participated in the Air Force’s first post-war continental air gunnery meet. In the grueling competition over the barren desert north of Las Vegas, Harry and his colleagues eked out the best team score in the propeller division, further burnishing the Tuskegee Airmen’s reputation. Eventually, the trophy awarded at the gunnery meet’s concluding banquet went on permanent display at the National Museum of the U.S. Air Force near Dayton, Ohio.

But glory is fleeting. Soon after the winning performance, defense budget drawdowns ended Harry’s active-duty service. He retained a commission in the reserves, eventually retiring as a lieutenant colonel. However, his military flying days were over.

With airline flying jobs not a viable option, Harry became a baggage handler at New York’s Penn Station, later moving to the city’s engineering department as a junior draftsman.

To get ahead, Harry began night classes at New York University aimed at earning a mechanical engineering degree.

Still harboring thoughts of airline flying, he believed that if he had a few minutes in person to review his flying background with airline employment managers it would change the hiring calculus. But, sadly, visits to a couple airline offices ended in snubs.

Flying would have to take a backseat to making a living. He continued his classes and with a college degree in hand he joined construction giant Bechtel Corporation in San Francisco and later ANR Pipeline Company in Detroit. At the latter he rose to vice president overseeing administrative services.

In retirement, Harry returned to his first love, piloting motor-gliders of the Youth Flight Academy of the Tuskegee Airmen National Historical Museum, which is based at Coleman A. Young International Airport in Detroit (KDET). With his trademark humility and quiet grace, Harry introduced youngsters to the wonder and magic of lofting into the boundless sky.

Though Harry did not get to fly airliners, he often expresses gratitude for his time flying in the Air Force and he takes pride in knowing that his achievements as a fighter pilot during World War II and several years after enabled the otherwise impeded dreamers of subsequent generations to enter the exalted realm that had regrettably eluded him. Indeed, today the spiritual descendants of the Tuskegee Airmen are commonly seen outfitted in airline uniforms striding purposefully through airport concourses.

Still spry, Harry observed his 100th birthday and Independence Day at the Tuskegee Airmen National Historical Museum’s voluminous hangar and expansive ramp at KDET. The festive occasion, which included family, friends, and fellow pilots, was marked by a fly-over of the museum’s Stearman biplane, one of the few still airworthy airframes actually used at Tuskegee’s primary training field during the war.

Joining the guest of honor was retired Air Force Colonel James H. Harvey III, a Denver, Colorado, resident and Harry’s sole surviving teammate from the 1949 gunnery competition. The two veterans, both 100 years old, huddled with one another and laughed heartily as they reminisced about their time flying together and speculated about the prospect of future birthdays.

Nearby was a replica of the trophy their team had won, set on a pedestal next to the museum’s AT-6 Texan, an airframe that Harry almost assuredly flew as a cadet at Tuskegee during his training in 1944.

A birthday cake decorated with imagery from his days with the 332nd and appropriately topped with red, white, and blue speckles was divided into slices and shared with attendees.

For those who came to honor Harry, the party was a poignant reminder of the contributions to our freedoms by the air-minded centenarian whose dream to soar, despite encountering formidable headwinds, never dimmed.

Harry’s words, as captured by Christiana Ford of the local ABC affiliate, expressed the spirit of the moment. About the celebration, Harry said, “I’m awed. I’m just overwhelmed with it. I think it’s wonderful.”

More broadly, as he reflected on the confluence of the two celebrations happening on the same day, he spoke of the nation he heroically served, “I loved it then, I love it now.”

With the wisdom gained from a life devoted to high ideals, he added, “I think we have a way to go…And I think we’ve got to be vigilant as we were in the past.”

Philip Handleman is a longtime pilot and the coauthor, with retired Air Force Lt. Col. Harry T. Stewart, Jr., of Soaring to Glory: A Tuskegee Airman’s Firsthand Account of World War II.